Menagerie
by MsCongeniality
Summary: A collection of drabbles focusing on various characters and subjects.
1. Dragons Heart

Few things touched the shop or its inhabitants, but Honlon always withdrew into herself in the winter, at Christmas.

Christmas. Stripped of its meaning, it became a vulgar holiday. Just the sort of thing those humans, those Westerners would concoct. And yet the day still held meaning, for that was the day, not only of her hatching, but the day that she had accepted her master. He had left her, scant months later but their contract was sealed, their bond unbroken.

She could still feel him, still taste the purity of his heart. She knew the bond went both ways, that Kanan's rages caused his own temper to flare and that Junrei's fits left him disquieted and sad.

Sometimes they met in the realm of dreams, though how much of it he remembered or believed upon waking, she couldn't say. It was mainly Shunrei who did the talking then. When he was young, she'd provided guidance, then counsel. Now, finally she gave him companionship.

The nights she liked best were when she felt him seeking her out, she could feel the pull as her Master called to her. The nights she knew he preferred her companionship to any other. Once, as a child, he'd said he could not own her because they were friends. Now, as an adult, that was precisely why he did.


	2. Never

_**A/N:** Okay…I have no idea where this came from. It was probably sparked by a drabble topic on LiveJournal, but still…the whole continuation thing is a bit weird. Hopefully you'll enjoy it, though._

"Daddy!"

Christopher Orcot closed his eyes and sat back in his chair, hoping that if she got no answer she'd simply settle down to sleep.

"Daddy!"

Chris sighed, it seemed the ex was due for another talk about reducing her sugar intake before dropping her off for the weekend. He ran a hand through his hair before getting up and crossing the small room to look in the open bedroom door

"What is it honey?"

She was watching the doorway expectantly, her determined expression undermined by the tousled blond hair and bright green eyes that seemed to shine even in the dim light of the hallway.

"Daddy, how long is never?"

Chris blinked and paused briefly before answering. "Never is a very, very long time. It means something isn't going to happen or come."

Her brow furrowed at this and she looked down at her comforter. "Oh. So never is for always?"

He looked at his daughter, trying to puzzle through some question beyond her five year old reasoning. "Something like that. Why?"

She tilted her head up to look at him again, expression still serious. "Because of the story. I asked about the people in the story and you said you never saw them again. Does that mean you won't see them again–ever?"

Chris suppressed the urge to wince or grimace at that. "Well, it means that I haven't yet. I'd like to believe that someday I might."

Her expression finally eased and she nodded. "Okay. Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Is it okay if I believe that too?


	3. Beyond All Reason

It was, Leon finally admitted, beyond all reason.

It should be easy to say that, deceptively simple. But not for someone who lived his life by logic and fact and the admission stuck painfully.

He had known there was something strange about D, something that defied his attempts to categorize or pin it down. But…spirits? Gods? Not to mention disappearing shops and celestial ships--no matter that he knew he hadn't been dreaming, it was beyond all reason and that didn't sit well. There had to be a **truth.** There had to be underlying _facts_ that made _sense_.

His features hardened and his fist clenched, unknowingly crushing that precious sheet of foolscap.

There _were_ answers and D had them. He was going to find them.


	4. Springtime

Leon opened the door to another empty storefront and swore under his breath. Once again, he'd been so close—if it hadn't been for his stupid, useless high school French holding him back, he might've even made it here in time. Instead he'd wasted days, apparently asking people for precisely the wrong thing before ending up in the 13th Arrondissement entirely by accident. 

He paced the small room, breathing deeply of the faint strains of incense that still hung in the air. Closing his eyes, Leon could almost see the parlor that had once fit inside this dark space. Opening them again for one last look, his eye was drawn by a splash of color. He knelt to look more closely at a handful of small, pink flowers. They had been crushed slightly by his pacing, but were clearly sakura blossoms—uncommon in Paris, more so in summer.

Leon straightened again, a slight smile on his face. Sakura meant springtime and at least eight months to figure out his destination. If the bastard was still playing mindgames, he'd be best heading to Washington, DC. Leon's smile broadened and he shook his head slightly. No, the flowers meant the game was over. He'd plan to be in Tokyo come spring.


End file.
